Endgame
by Grimlinden
Summary: When the past seems long-forgotten in their new lives, a new threat comes from the main continent and the Claymores must fight again through pain and sorrow for themselves and for their beloved ones. Mild background references will be made to my fic "The little girl and the long way home" (sorry for this, it isn't a cheap marketing device, I am just developing "my" world further).
1. The black memento

**=I=**

**The black memento**

It was a sunny and warm Spring morning. Clare was sitting in the porch of their house, her sight wandering between the orchards and the wide grazing ranges with the horses. The orchards were a breath-taking view, with the candid orange tree flowers racing the beauty of the apple trees, where the innocence of the outer layers seemed to blush into pink passion closer to the corollas. A light breeze was moving them all and bringing a nice sweet scent.

The horses were a magnificent breed, strong and with smooth black manes reflecting the sunlight with shifting hues depending on the light and on the movement of the muscles. They recently had a newborn, which was learning to gallop with his mother making it a sweet family picture.

"A family" - she thought, and she turned her eyes toward the sound of clashing of wooden sticks. She knew what she would see, and she knew she'd like it.

On a huge flat rock by the river, a man and a little girl were playing a duel game. The man was fighting with skill and composure, he was soft on his feet and precise and essential in his moves. Clare's heightened senses allowed her to hear his voice from afar, and even if she was missing a word or two, she still knew what he was saying by reading his moves.

"Left, high." "Left, low." "Arc, top." "Feint, twirl." "Steadier with the wrist." "Need more balance." "Too rigid." "Bend those knees." "Bring the guard higher."

The man was smiling, surely he was enjoying himself.

"He has always been smiling since we met again, that day" - she whispered to herself, sighing.

Her attention then switched to the girl. She was incredibly serious and focused, and it was clear that she was understanding the instructions and was trying to do what she was asked.

"Right, high."

The girl reacted a little too slowly, as if she was tired. She did not raise her stick fast enough and got hit to the arm. The man looked horrified and kneeled to hug her. Clare raised from her seat, but then heard the girl's giggles and just smiled.

"It's alright daddy, my fault."

"I am sorry, I am so sorry… I didn't control myself, I should've stopped."

The girl was still giggling while massaging her arm.

"I like it better this way, daddy. I think I learn faster if I see the consequences when I made a mistake."

The girl recovered her stick and proudly slipped it in her belt.

"Come here you little scoundrel…"

The man raised the girl to the sky and put her astride on his shoulders.

"I know your mommy is watching what we do and we'd better tell her you are alright or she will worry."

The girl gripped his light-brown hair as reins and patted him on the chest with her heels.

"Yoo-oh daddy-oh!"

He mimicked a rearing stretching his back, and started to walk towards the house.

* * *

Clare went back watching the horses, and again she saw a familiar scene. A little boy was sitting on the wooden fence limiting the orchards and giving towards the pastures, his right hand gently waving toward the animals. His lips were moving but she couldn't hear any sound. As usual, she had mixed feelings. The boy seemed happy, but she wasn't sure what he was doing. They talked a lot about it, but he kept saying that he liked to speak with the animals, because they expressed genuine and natural thoughts. It was such an overly deep explanation for a little boy, and Clare was worried that it could be evidence of powers she feared, or insanity.

She remembered that day, almost eleven years before. After a few weeks in Rabona, she bid her sisters farewell and left with Raki, to build a future together. They felt well together, not going far but roaming the surroundings in Toulouse, but there was the lingering doubt that they would never be a family. Then, they were blessed by the twin gods, Clare had no other way to explain it. It was a miracle. They made love one night under a silver full moon, in the woods. It was as the previous times they let passion guide them, yet it wasn't. It was stronger, they were as one, body and soul, like never before. The world just disappeared in a vortex of pleasure so overwhelming they were losing their sense, it was just them and their love.

Then, over the next weeks, Clare's behavior had changed. She grew irascible, nervous, and she wanted to eat more. She so believed it impossible, that she couldn't feel life growing inside her. Raki was patiently accepting all her rudeness, somehow he knew, or at least he hoped, but wanted her to become aware on her own, not to spoil the moment. The moment then came, they were camping on the huge flat rock where the little girl was playing with sticks. It was full moon again, and the peaceful surface of water was reflecting the silver light. Raki was cooking a fish on the campfire, as Clare went to sit beside him and grabbed his arm.

"Raki…"

He looked at her and immediately knew the time had come. He gently nodded, smiling.

"I know."

Tears were welling on the corner of their eyes, as they let themselves in a strong embrace.

"Raki, I… I thought it was not possible. I…"

"I don't care what's possible and what's not, Clare."

"Raki…"

"All I care is that I am with you and that fate, a miracle, the gods or whatever you wish to call it, gifted us with this."

"I am scared… I am still… a monster. What if they are…"

"You are the most beautiful person I've ever met and will be a wonderful mother."

"Oh, Raki…"

A shadow of doubt then crossed his face.

"Oh, wait a moment… Did you say 'they'?"

She smiled and softly kissed him on the front while playing with his hair.

"So I said…"

Then tears started to flow freely, no longer constrained, and they just spent the whole night hugging each other, in silence and satisfied with the faint sounds of each other's breathing and heartbeat. the next day, Raki was already chopping trees to build a house near that magic place.

Clare felt emotional every time she was reviving those moments. And every time those moments were also bringing back other memories, like Raki's attempts to teach the boy some swordplay. He was very obedient and was always doing as his father wanted, but it was clear enough that he did not like it. Most of all, it was clear enough that he did not seem to have any talent whatsoever. Clare and Raki were often joking about it, blaming each other for not having transmitted any combat skills. Even though they felt over their past, sometimes they surprised themselves to speak so lightly about it.

"Clearly, it's your fault Raki. Your human blood is weak and as a trainer you are a disaster, it's already incredible that you managed to learn something with Isley."

"Yeah, right, so spoke the one mingling with demons to be able to use a sword…"

Then, over time they noticed that the girl was always watching attentively when Raki and the boy were practicing. One day, Clare saw her on the big flat rock playing with a stick, alone. She was mimicking the moves she had seen, in a raw way, yet surprisingly well considering that she had no training. Clare had called Raki, and they kept watching her together, as she continued for long before collapsing on the stone exhausted.

"I know you wanted a father and son thing, but…"

His eyes were sparkling with interest, but he wanted to tread carefully as he was not entirely comfortable with the matter.

"I don't know Clare. Would you agree?"

"Why shouldn't I?"

"Well… I have not forgotten what you told me that night, that you were afraid that…"

"Ah, yes… So you think that training the girl would be a bad omen?"

"Sort of… I don't know. I don't want to do it unless you agree."

"Tell me, why do you practice with him."

"Soon he will be a man, and I don't trust this world to be completely safe."

"Is there something else?"

She knew him better than anyone else.

"Well… I like it? You know that you don't want…"

"We discussed it already, I am not wielding a sword anymore unless forced to. And as much as I love you, I won't do it for your hobby."

"So…"

"So you are a kid that wants to play with other kids. I am sure she will enjoy it, and you will both be happy. How should I oppose it?"

"I suspect the boy will be happier too…" - he concluded with a bit or sourness, as he was always a bit uncomfortable with his son's habits and likings.

And so the new routine had started, with Raki playing with the girl while the boy started to devote all its time to "talk" with the animals and attend to the orchards. And he was surprisingly helpful, the booming flowers of this season, notwithstanding a harsh past Winter, were clear proof of it. He had a way especially with the animals, he could keep them calm or he could have them work hard with little effort.

* * *

As she was deep in her thoughts, Clare heard the sound of wheels coming closer. From the pathway leading to the main body of the house, a bulky carriage was approaching at mild speed. It was the weekly carriage from Rabona to the Southern Lands of Mucha, where new towns and villages were apparently sprouting fast also thanks to a very good weather and natural resources. To Clare it was as if those lands were still celebrating after having been freed from years of abuses by Luciela. The vehicle was passing by the house anytime there were letters for them, as it was also serving as a sort of courier to all those living on the way and not too far from Rabona.

The girl patted Raki again on the chest, hopping up and down on his shoulders.

"Daddy, daddy, faster, there must be something for us!"

Somehow she was always excited when the carriage came and wanted to open the correspondence for her parents, just out of curiosity.

The carriage indeed was passing by because there were letters to be delivered. Three in total, all more or less looking alike from the envelopes, two addressed to "Raki and family" and one to "Clare". Clare got them and awaited Raki and her daughter in the porch.

"Mommy, mommy! May I? Pleeeeease…"

It was another little game. She had never said no, but the girl was always asking it with a whiny tone and puppy eyes. She never did that with anything else.

Clare indulged in her daughter eyes, round and green, her green, and in her whole face, bordered with golden long hair, all scruffy and wet with the sweat of practice.

"Yes, Jean. Open them, one by one, and read them out loud. Maybe start with those to the whole family, then open the one to me."

Raki watched Clare as to question about the personal letter, but she dismissed it with a shrug. Raki then let the girl down and she went sitting beside Clare, gingerly reaching for and opening the first envelope.

"The Barley family is inviting us for the… uh… En-ga-ge-ment? Engagement party of Dorothee. What is this 'engagement'? Like a special birthday?"

Raki started to laugh, Clare gently patted Jean on the head.

"So and so. It means that Dorothee has found the love of her life and they wish to declare that they will always be together."

"Oh, like mommy and daddy?"

"Like mommy and daddy."

"Cool, may we go? Pleeeeease…"

Raki quickly exchanged a look with Clare to understand if she was interested and once reassured, he answered: "Sure, little one. And you will also have a special task."

"Oh, what is it?"

"You must think about a nice gift for Dorothee."

"I knew it was a special birthday! We need to think about a special birthday present! May I also have an engagement party like Dorothee?"

Raki blushed and let Clare to answer that.

Clare smiled: "Yes Jean, when you will feel ready you may ask for it."

"How will I know when I am ready?"

"You will learn it yourself."

The girl was clearly unsatisfied with the answer, but then moved to the second envelope, still plenty of curiosity.

"The bee… bi-shop of Rabona invites everybody to help in the building of the new… mmmh… or-pha-nage of Sister Latea. It says that the children need more space. We must help them! Also, I miss nanny Latea, I want to see her again, pleeeeease! Also, what is an 'orphanage'?"

Again, it was Clare that answered.

"Yes, we should assist, it's for a good cause. The orphanage is the house where we last met nanny Latea, it is for the children that are not as lucky as you and your brother and miss their parents.

"Oh, they miss them because they are away?"

"Yes… And… I miss nanny Latea too."

Raki nodded: "How long must have been?"

"Four years, maybe?"

"Time flies so fast… We devoted every second to build this house, but…"

"Yes, we shouldn't forget our friends. We used to exchange letters at the beginning, also to share information should anything dangerous happen, then…"

"I guess we all got used to the new lives, probably it is also a way to really get over..."

* * *

As they were still discussing, Jean had already opened the last envelope and was examining the content with surprise.

"Mommy, daddy, this is not a letter."

Clare answered without looking, still fixed on Raki. He was always so charming after sparring with Jean, so light-hearted and happy. Years of hard work with the farm had chipped him, but just a little, and she could feel his inner strength unfaltering.

"Then what is it, Jean?"

"It's complicated. There is a tiny bill which says 'Where we started, please make it end' and a black… mmh… card with a weird red sign on it. It is like a cross, but there are more symbols, one, two, three on each side of the cross…"

Clare started to turn her eyes on Jean, slowly, as if becoming aware of what the girl was talking about. Raki reacted faster, pulling the envelope off Jean's hands and giving it to Clare. When he saw Clare's pallor he tried to get all attention to him.

"This is a special message for your mommy, Jean. It is like… a game."

"Oh, a game? What game?"

"Many years ago your mommy used to play with her friends as we do on the rock by the river. I think one of those friends wishes to… play again."

"After many tears?"

"After many years."

"Cool! May I play too? I want to see mommy play, she never plays with us! Pleeeeease…"

Clare was getting more and more pallid and the hand holding the black card was trembling. Raki turned Jean toward him for her not to see.

"I don't think it's possible, Jean."

"But why?"

"Well… Uh… Your mommy is… very shy and… very bad at the game, she does not like to be watched" - he muttered.

"She is not good like daddy, ha?"

She acted a couple strokes in the air with an imaginary sword, smiling.

"No sweetie, she is… not. Go and call your brother, it's almost lunchtime and then you will go and take your nap."

"Nap is booooring! I already have some ideas for Dorothee, I want to tell you and mommy."

"Jean, be a good girl now and get your brother, we will see about this later."

The girl seemed a bit disappointed, but nonetheless she rushed away to the fields to fetch her brother.

* * *

When they were alone, Raki knelt in front of Clare and took her face in his hands, gently, driving her eyes to his.

"Who is…"

Clare was sobbing and struggling not to cry.

"Miria… It's Miria, Raki…"

He tried to find words to comfort her, but he could not.

"I don't want what to say, Clare… I am sorry."

"I must go, Raki."

She didn't want to, she didn't want to be dragged away from her paradise to the hell of her past.

"I know, I still remember Elena…" he stopped, blaming himself for mentioning her.

Clare understood it.

"Be easy on yourself, I was already thinking about her."

"How could it be… Miria…"

"I don't know, I haven't seen her in ages. Raki, we are… so happy here, I thought they were happy as well. I stopped writing, I have been so selfish. I should've…"

"Clare, stop it. I know you, always there blaming yourself, for everything. It's not your fault."

"Maybe I could've done something, help… The others too… We endured so much together, Raki, and all help I can give now is answering a black card… The past… Our past returned to haunt us."

"Let's eat something, I will put the kids to bed, and we can talk…"

In the meantime. Jean had reached her brother, his back toward her. She poked him.

"Galk, it's yummy time! Come, fast!"- she said, giggling as usual.

He turned, and she saw that he was gulping in tears.

"What's wrong?"

"Mom…"

"What?"

"Mom is so sad… She has never been so sad…"

"How do you know?"

"I feel it…"

"You are always so weird…"

"I am not weird."

"Of course you are, you silly. Mommy is happy, we got invited for the special birthday of Dorothee and we will see nanny Latea again soon."

Galk clenched his fists, breathing deeply.

"I am not weird, I feel… things" - he whispered.

The horses grew nervous and started to neigh, the mother took her colt away, as to protect it. Jean seemed not to notice.

"Whatever… I am going to eat everything, if you don't come fast you will find only the stupid cabbage left" - she said, running back to the house.

"Mom is so sad… And she will leave soon…" - the boy whispered, trying to catch breath between hiccups and to wipe the tears off his cheeks with his shirt as he started to gloomily walk home.


	2. Where we started

**=II=**

**Where we started**

The lunch was over quickly, but occurred in an awkward setting.

Jean was excited about everything: she spoke of her morning practice, of the special birthday she learned of earlier, of the importance to help all 'children without mommy and daddy' and of how happy she was to see nanny Latea again soon. She always liked her, she was kind with her and when Jean asked if she would grow as tall as her, she reassured her: "Sure little Jean, and you can grow your hair like mine if you wish."

Clare was trying hard to appear normal, but she needed all the help Raki could provide. He was handling the kids, particularly attempting to match the endless flow of chit-chat of Jean. Galk remained silent all the time and played with the food, eating just a few bites. When Raki told them that is was nap time he seemed relieved, whereas Jean hated it: "Why do we have to sleep in the afternoon? We already sleep at night. It makes more sense to sleep when it's dark outside."

"What about you choose what to do in the afternoon, say after your next birthday?" - her father told her.

"Mmh, what does it have to do with it? I am grown-up already!"

Raki felt uncertain, he wondered whether they were not treating them properly for their age.

"Alright you little grown-up, let's make a deal. You go to sleep like a good kid, then you groom the horses. When you are done I will teach you a special trick."

She knew he was talking about something with the sticks and she smiled. Then her face turned serious and she thought for a while.

"But… Mmh… What about a trick for yesterday's sleep? And the day before?"

Raki smiled as well: "Well, this is a one-off deal, little scoundrel."

She was a bit disappointed first, she thought her request made a lot of sense, but then she smiled again: "Alright daddy-oh, but it must be really special!"

After the kids went to bed, Raki closed the door of their room, but he heard that they were still talking. Actually, Jean was doing the talking, she was excited about the "special trick" she'd learn soon. He did not hear Galk saying anything, which was as usual and as usual it was worrying him.

He returned to the small dining room where Clare was sipping some tea.

"Galk is always so passive…"

Clare turned her eyes on him, he continued.

"I mean… He is not like Jean, but he is… too quiet. Sometimes I'd really like he did or said something crazy, his apathy worries me."

She listened, but did not add anything.

"Maybe it's time they have rooms on their own… I should build one more, we are plenty of space after all…"

It was as if he tried to talk about everything to avoid what they had to discuss.

"Raki, I will get my sword now, and leave. I have road to cover and don't want to be late."

The words stung, forcing him to face the recent happenings.

"Why don't you think about it a bit more, maybe sleep over it, you can leave in the morning…"

"You said you knew I had to go…"

He remembered his words earlier that day, but now he regretted them.

"Yes, but… No, I mean, how can someone understand it? Look, you have not even wielded you sword for years, maybe we could… practice a bit… It would help you, so you can recover some touch and…"

"My sister asked my help Raki, I cannot fail her."

"But you don't even know where she is…" - he protested.

"I perfectly know where she is. She is where we started."

"What does it mean?"

"Last time we met she said she would stay around the Paburo mountains. She called them the 'gateway to the North' and she wanted to watch over that area."

"Last time you met the kids were half their age… Anyway, do you think you will be able to sense her presence? That area is huge."

"Our first mission together was a hunt in the Paburo mountains. We met in a village but after we started our mission we took shelter with Helen and Deneve in a cavern. At nightfall, Miria and I fought for the first time. That is where we started."

"You fought her?"

"She wished to test me. She was the group leader and she wanted to know if I could help or was just a burden. It was the right thing to do. We fought again afterwards, for… similar reasons…"

Clare raised from the chair and went to their bedroom. She moved the bed a carpet underneath it to uncover a trapdoor. Raki had followed her.

"Clare, you could pass by Rabona and maybe join with some of the others?"

The trapdoor was hiding a small storage from which she pulled out a big rough jute sack and two swords rolled in cloth. She put everything on the bed and opened the sack, revealing two different sets of gear, one silver and one black.

"Clare, are you listening?"

"I will use the silver one, I have nothing to hide anymore."

She then unrolled the longer sword, her claymore, and began testing the blade.

"Clare…"

"I am listening Raki, and no. I will go alone. I will not make this a hunting party and I will not tell the others unless I am forced to…"

She was satisfied with the blade, which seemed unscathed by time, closed the sack with her dark outfit in it and motioned as to put it back in the storage with the other sword still rolled.

"Leave that out, I'd like to check it as well" - he said, pointing at its weapon of choice.

She did so, but her eyes grew inquisitive.

"Don't worry, I will just polish it a bit…"

"Does it have to do with the 'trick' you wish to teach to Jean?"

"Well… That stick is so light, I don't get the timing very well. Also… I don't know, but that sword has been my only… companion for long… I guess I am still afraid to be alone…"

"You are not alone, you have the kids."

"I am alone if you are not with me, Clare."

She felt touched by those words and drew closer to Raki.

"Must you always be so romantic?"

They kissed, a long and intense kiss. And they hug each other, as if not wanting to let go, ever.

"I will be back soon, I promise."

"I was missing our promises, my love…"

Clare put her claymore gear on and it felt as if it were the first time, again. The sword felt heavy in her hand, and she had all doubts Raki first raised. She put a broad cowl over to mask the armor, as she used to do.

"I haven't practiced in years, will I be able to do what I am asked?"

But she didn't have time for those thoughts. She reached for the strongest horse and saddled it together with Raki.

"You didn't take the fastest…"

"I am heavy with gear and will try to take as few breaks as possible, I need the strongest."

"I see…"

"Say goodbye to the kids for me. Jean would make too many questions otherwise."

"Yeah, she already did when she saw the black card… I will tell them that you will be back soon."

She thanked him and headed to the pathway leading out of their farm. Raki followed her with his eyes until she went out of sight.

* * *

When she was at the outer boundaries of the orchards, she heard short and fast footsteps coming from the trees. She stopped and waited until Galk reached the wooden fence, panting.

Clare got off her horse and went toward him.

"Galk, what are you doing?"

"Mom, the bees are working on the flowers… They are such hard workers…"

"What?"

"Every day I go to see the blue jays by the acorn trees. They eat a lot because they are in love. I also see them building their houses. They like the pine trees, they like green. They put together twigs, small roots, bark chips… To make them more comfortable they also add moss and feathers… They also stole some of the small napkins you put out to dry, they like the colors."

He was speaking fast, almost without catching breath, and he was crying.

"Come here…"

She hugged him, he was weeping.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"You are sad, mom. So sad… I feel it… I want you to be happy… If you are happy you won't leave…"

"You like the birds? You are describing things you like to make me happy?"

He nodded.

"Dad is worried that I don't talk enough, are you said because I don't talk enough? I can talk more, like Jean…"

"Shhh… I have to go away just for a few days, no more. It has nothing to do with you, and I am sad because I have to leave you those days."

"Really?"

"Yes. Your dad and I love you so much Galk… You just do what you feel to. If you like to be a quiet kid, just be it. If you like to talk to the animals, do it. You have a kind heart, you should be proud of it."

"Mom…"

"Remember Galk, never change just to please others. You understand? Never. Trust your feelings, that's all."

In the meantime, he had calmed down a little.

"Where are you going, mom?"

"I am going North, past Rabona. There is an old friend I must meet. Then I will come back."

"Someone I know?"

Clare thought for an instant: Galk had met Miria when she had wished to present her twins to all her sisters. She had played with him for a while, he seemed happy. She seemed happy too. She didn't want to mention Miria.

"No Galk, it's a very old friend I haven't seen in many years. She wrote me a letter saying that she… misses me."

"Will you… kill her?"

Clare was shocked.

"Why… Why do you say that?"

"Your feelings, mom… They are… so strong… They hurt…"

His eyes narrowed, as if it was hard for him to explain. He turned his eyes to the ground, shy to talk about this.

"There was a wolf in the woods last week, a strong male. He was hunting a young deer, for himself and his mate. I felt the thrill of the hunt, the wolf was… excited, but there was a sense of… necessity."

"Stop, Galk, just stop…"

"You are not excited… You… dislike it. But I feel… the same necessity. You are a lot like the wolf…"

Clare was hugging her son even more strongly now, struggling not to cry.

"Just a few days Galk, and I will be back. Hush now."

She intensely thought of Jean practicing with Raki by the river, and the image gave her calm. He seemed to grow calmer as well.

"In the meantime, you watch over your sister."

"I will wait for you… But…"

Clare kept picturing her daughter with Raki, with the sun and a blue sky reflecting on the water. She was getting back in control of her emotions.

"But?"

Galk seemed even calmer, as if the worst had passed. He managed to smile: "You should have better asked Jean to watch over me…"

* * *

Clare travelled fast. She avoided the main roads and cut through the woodlands she knew well.

Various thoughts were crowding her mind. She could no longer ignore that Galk had some special powers, and that it could not be but for her. Jean might have powers as well. Her joy for having become a mother, the 'miracle' as she always referred to, was eroded by the doubts of the future of her children.

Of course, she was also thinking of Miria. She was very surprised to receive a black card after so many years, and most of all from Miria. Not because it felt strange that she chose her, she'd surely reciprocate, she would ask no other. But because she always seemed in control, like she had a special gift to keep the beast at bay. And she wondered what could have brought Miria over the limit so much. She feared that the black card could also mean something even worse.

On the way, and during the breaks to let the horse rest, Clare practiced with her sword. It was a nice feeling, after all. The weapon was still very familiar to her, in a matter of a few swings she regained speed and confidence.

She was approaching the outer ridge of the Paburo mountains, when she took one more break. The horse was sweating and panting, she had forced it a lot. She practiced some more.

"I am not as I used to be, but I am not bad either."

She wasn't entirely convinced, though.

"What if she has already awakened when I get there… Will I be able to beat her?"

She tried a few more swings, yet without releasing her youki.

"No Clare, no… She must have called you because she knows what happened with Jean long before. She knows I can help her coming back."

She forced herself to stick with that positive thinking.

"I should've realized it earlier, could have told Raki… He'd be less nervous now…"

She was thinking about preparing a campfire and stopping for the day, but abandoned the idea and went back to the horse.

"I am sorry, but it's not time to remove the saddle, yet. I need one more push."

The horse neighed in protest, but let her on his back and obediently went toward the direction she indicated cantering.

* * *

Clare reached the cavern at dusk. She quickly dismounted and scouted the surroundings, finding no trace of Miria. She attempted to read youki sources, but found none either. She then took care of the horse, gently patting it as she was removing the saddle and the harness. She ensured that it had enough water and food, then lightened up a fire. Lastly, she sat with her legs crossed in front of the fire, and, slowly and cautiously, she started to release her youki. First, she simply let the suppression she imposed herself for years go away. Then she went to the next level, releasing more and more energy. It was a sensation not felt for long time, it was inebriant, she had to admit that she missed it. The energy flowing in her body was making her shiver with pleasure, and the more the energy the higher the ecstasy. However, she stopped where she wanted to, her experience was not forgotten and proved sound. Then she waited.

"If she is around she will sense this…"

She repeated the process at regular intervals of time, until she heard footsteps approaching. It was in the middle of the night. A hooded figure appeared on the border of the woods and calmly walked toward her. She did not feel any aura at all, but she knew it was being suppressed. No matter how well the aura was covered, when she became aware of her sensing skills during her last fight with Priscilla she also realized that she could always tell if suppression was adopted.

As the figure was getting closer to the firelight, Clare started to recognize features she would recognize among thousands. The height, the length and pace of the strides, the nobility of the moves. She raised and mechanically moved her right hand to the hilt of the sword.

"Stop there, and remove the hood."

The figure stopped, then slowly removed the hood with both hands. A cross-shaped scar was on her face and the firelight seemed to play with it. The face, in turn, was framed with razor-cut hair, a little shaggy in appearance. She hadn't changed at all.

"Miria…"

"Clare… I am glad to see you here, after all this time!"

"Why, Miria? Tell me why…"

Miria seemed a bit surprised by the question.

"Why are you asking?"

"Maybe it is clear enough, but I want to know, I want to hear it from you…"

"Well, I haven't seen you for… how long? Five year? Maybe more… I always thought this place was special… The whole Paburo mountains, the pathway where we faced the first awakened being together. But here too… How could I forget. Where I am standing now we crossed swords for the first time…"

She stomped the ground with her right boot, as to mark the spot.

"This is where it all started for us as a group, in a way…"

"Tell me there is something I can do, please… Something else…"

Clare's tone was sad, beyond worried. She was like begging. Miria's insight was telling her that something was wrong, terribly wrong. She had that feeling since the first question from Clare - 'Why, Miria?' What was her sister asking? And why had she come there that day? She needed to cut through the nonsense, she needed more information.

"Clare, why are you here?"

The direct question took Clare by surprise. At first, she thought she might have reached her friend too late and that she no longer wished to end her existence with honor. But it couldn't be. Miria seemed quiet, her youki was entirely suppressed. And she seemed surprised to see her. Could it be that she was not trusting her to heed the call, that she thought it impossible for her to come? No, not after all they went through together.

She then searched for the black card inside her coat and tossed it at Miria. The card flew straight for a while, then bended and bit mid-air and dropped, sticking in the ground by a corner.

Miria could not see the symbol on it, but she recognized the black card and what she saw was enough. She could tell what was wrong, then. She quickly reached for her sword and concentrated on the surroundings.

Clare wasn't sure of what was going on. Miria had assumed a combat stance, but it looked like she was probing the area, she felt no aggression against herself. Once again, as guided by an invisible force, she did as her former leader was doing, she knew it was the right thing.

None of them could detect anything. After a few moments, the tension relaxed a bit. Miria then twisted the hilt of her sword, and pulled out her black card, showing it to Clare.

"So... You came because of this?"

* * *

She could see the shock in Clare's eyes. Then, it was as if Clare wished to say something, but her eyes reacted before she could speak, opening wide. By instinct, Miria knew that Clare had seen something, something behind her. Without turning, she unleashed her youki and performed her phantom move. A black figure followed her like a shadow. She leaped again as phantom, and again, but apparently she could not shake off what was chasing her.

She looked at Clare and just raised her eyebrows, and in a heartbeat she knew that her friend from old understood what she wanted to do, as she saw Clare turning her back, her grip steady on the sword. One more phantom leap and she was back to back with Clare, this time able to watch behind her to see what she had on her tail. Clare was covering the other side.

None of them was seeing anything.

"What is it, Miria?"

Miria grunted.

"I don't know, I don't see anything. But…"

Clare could hear Miria panting, as if tired already. Holding her position she slightly turned to see her.

"But?"

She then saw blood spilling from wounds, in the chest, legs and shoulders. They did not seem lethal but there were many.

"But whatever is out there, it is fast."


	3. Be strong

**=III=**

**Be strong**

Clare could not sense any presence. She felt no youki and she heard no sound. Yet, they were being attacked by someone, or something. Suddenly, driven by conscienceless reflexes, she raised her harmed arm up and the sword connected, sparks bursting from the clash. Miria jumped and twisted mid-air, charging a powerful slash. She could spot for a moment a dark thin shadow, but she missed. She landed beside Clare and saw her bending on her knees and springing forward in a thrust.

Miria could not see their enemy clearly, it was blinking on the ground, as if disappearing and reappearing again in a different place. Clare too wasn't fast enough to hit it.

"Clare, we must stay close!"

Her friend noticed that she could not hit her target, and accepted to go back in position.

"What do we do, Miria?"

She had just finished to speak that the shadow was back on the move. Again in came in from above, but then it blinked again. Clare glimpsed a blurry movement to her left and raised her guard, and again sparks lighted the air for a short while. Miria was slower and Clare could tell that the shadow knew it and that it was aiming a stroke at her.

Miria turned and attempted to raise her guard, but she knew she was too slow and her wound were aching. She saw sharp claws of darkness going for her throat, but then, suddenly, she saw Clare's sword parrying them. Clare managed to shift fast enough to stand in front of Miria, but doing so she lost balance and could not recover well from the parry. The shadow decided to press on her: a first blow hit her on the left flank, easily cutting through her suit. She grunted and bent due to the pain. The shadow had her in the position it wanted and charged another blow, aiming straight to the head. Clare knew she could not raise the guard fast enough, so she decided to lean on her left side even more, raising the right shoulder and her armor's pauldron. As the claws hit the armor, she did not make any resistance and let them slip on the metal, allowing them to scratch it with a freezing sound but preventing them from passing through.

Clare then recovered full grip on the sword with both hands and ignoring the pain she moved to hit as if she were wielding a bat. Her attack was inelegant and raw, and was easily parried, but it was her goal. As the blade connected she pushed more, exhaling hard to release full strength, and shoved her target meters away. She knew they needed a break and maybe she could gain a few seconds.

The shadow landed graciously on the ground and studied the claymores for a while. Indeed, it had a thin silhouette and at first it seemed dark, but the blazes of the campfire were revealing a strange mirroring surface, resembling liquid metal. It was adapting to the sources of light, constantly shifting its patterns. It was like a camouflage: not perfect, but good enough to prevent anybody to have a precise perception of where the body and the claws were, stealing time to defend from its attacks. It was not emitting any sound, it did not even seem to breathe.

"Miria, stand on my back, you need to regenerate, I will try and keep it at bay as much as I can."

Miria reluctantly knew that she was of no use in her condition and nodded: "Be careful."

Clare readied herself.

* * *

Jean had dutifully groomed all horses except for the mother with the colt. They were not allowing her to come close and she was losing her patience.

"Stupid animals, I just want to clean them."

Galk was with her, playing sounds with a thick leaf on his lips.

"And you are not helping, with that stupid… whatever of yours."

Galk stopped, he wasn't very satisfied with his 'music', either.

"Well, it's not easy. Dad is better at it. You shouldn't call everything stupid, though."

She felt exasperated.

"I must finish here before practicing with daddy and those two are a waste of time!" - she protested, pointing especially at the colt which was running wildly back and forth, enjoying his recently achieved stability on the legs.

"Well sis… I can help you."

"Really?"

"Sure. Come here."

She reached him, and he raised his right arm toward the animals.

"See, sis… You want to groom them because it's a chore, not because you wish them to feel better. They know it. The other horses did not care, but the young one is too energetic and the mother is protective."

"Yeah, right, you know all this because you talk to them…"

"I just wish them to feel better. Sincerely. They understand it, and when they do, they calm down and come close. They trust me, I'm their friend."

As he was talking to Jean, the two horses were doing as he was saying, coming closer and closer.

"I am introducing you to them. They have seen you already, but they don't like you much…"

"Horses don't like me, bite me!"

"You are too… Mmh… Noisy? You always run and scream and…"

"Is this part of the help?"

"I am trying to explain… I know your feelings, they are agitated, always. You are always... too much, too happy, too angry..."

The colt was now rubbing the head on Galk's hand, puffing playful.

"Now sis, pat him on the neck, gently. I told him you are a friend too, but we must convince the mother as well, she still sees you as… a threat."

She looked at him exasperated, but she did as suggested. The colt let her pat him, then left Galk and started to rub his head on her chest. He was already strong, she felt almost raised from the ground, but it was good. She was smiling, and Galk could feel her happiness.

"I can help you grooming them too, dad will be done soon and I know you have something to do on your favorite rock."

"Thank you! Ehy…"

Jean giggled: the colt was licking her face and it was feeling funny.

Galk repeated to himself that he'd look after his sister, anyway he could, as his mother asked him.

* * *

Clare had fought her opponent for a while. Her eyes were cat-like and golden, she had to release more youki to withstand the speed of the fight, but she was feeling reasonably in control. The shadow had tried to reach Miria, but she had managed to keep it away from her and could tell that Miria's wounds were looking better, soon it would be the two of them together.

In any event, the shadow kept coming, without hesitation. Clare decided she could take it down alone and started to attack. The opponent's defense seemed weaker that its attack and as soon as she saw an opening, she released her quickblade. Most of her strokes went unmatched and she did hit multiple times. The quickblade motion and off-target blows raised a cloud of dust off the ground, she had indeed lost precision.

When the dust settled, it revealed that the shadow was unarmed. She could tell it by the feeling of the sword hitting its skin, but she had to see it to convince herself. Her attack had been for nothing.

She then tried again, focusing more on the precision and using more force, but with the same result. Just, this time the shadow did not even try to avoid any blow, but attacked on its own while being hit by Clare. She did not expect it and could not defend well afterwards. She felt the claws slashing her arms and legs: apparently, it wanted to slow her down and to go for the kill once she was crippled. Clare realized that she had to try something different. Its skin seemed impenetrable, she couldn't just try to hit with more force. She focused and thought of the sword as an extension of her arm. She let the youki flow in her body, then conjured it in the arm, driving the energy throughout it, then to the hand and to the tip of her fingers. She concentrated further to guide it through the blade. The shadow was back on the move, she gathered her strength and leaped forward. Her opponent was not expecting she could recover so fast and tried to stop its charge, sliding on the ground, but she was nimble and it was imbalanced.

Her thrust hit it straight in the chest, but the blade was inert and the tip just pushed the shadow further back, without a scratch. Clare fell to her knees, the last attack cost her much and she learned that she could not replicate what she had done against Priscilla. She should've practiced, it was a move she used just once and when she needed it again she could not pull it off.

The shadow dashed to the campfire and extinguished it, allowing the darkness to spread. Its skin adapted immediately, merging it with the landscape. Then it attacked again, springing back and forth from its position. Clare was still on her knees, she was trying to defend but it was very hard to see anything, she was just waiving her sword in the blind.

Suddenly, she felt a deep stab at her right arm, at shoulder's level, it was painful, first a cut and then a ripping pull with the sound of broken tendrils. She looked at her arm and realized it was gone, and her sword with it, idly dropped on the ground. She turned back to the point where the shadow was starting its attacks, trying to see it while reaching for her sword with the left arm, but she knew she couldn't make it on time. In a blur, the shadow sprang against her again.

It was then that Clare heard a 'woosh' sound coming from her back. She was reading herself for the impact, but none came. Miria appeared standing in front of her, lunging forward with her sword.

* * *

Jean was done with her chores and was waiting for Raki on the rock. She saw her father coming at her, but then he waved a hand as to say that he needed more time. She followed him with the eyes and noticed that he went by a beech tree nearby. With a knife, he cut a slender branch off, and cleaned it of the smaller branches, making it smooth. He then moved toward her, whipping the air with the flexible branch, appearing satisfied with it.

"Alright, now listen up Clare."

"Ehy daddy, it's Jean."

Raki had a sort of lapse, then he recovered.

"Sorry little scoundrel, I was thinking of your mom…"

She smiled: "Me too, no worries…"

"So, let's both concentrate on your special trick, shall we?"

She nodded, enthusiastic.

"I am going to use this today…" - he said, waving the beech stick "Can you imagine why?"

Jean turned thoughtful for a while, then smiled again and nodded.

"If you can, tell me…"

"I think that you want to show me something, and to do it you must hit me. And you're worried to use the big stick."

He felt proud of her: "Good girl. So, ready?"

She raised her stick, serious, and nodded.

"Left, high."

She raised her guard and the stroke indeed came high on her left, but at the last moment Raki let his arm drop and straighten. He easily passed under her guard, then raised the arm again and touched her between the shoulder and the neck. She took one step back and rubbed where she was hit. Raki was worried.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?"

"Nah, again."

"Right, high."

He performed the same move from the other side, again touching her.

"Again."

"Right, high."

This time she prepared differently, raising the guard slightly less, keeping her stick a bit sideways and keeping her hands tighter towards her body. He just performed a simple stroke without any variation, and hit her on the arm.

"But…"

"Tell me what happened now."

"Well… You did not do the special move."

"Exactly."

"I don't understand daddy, why?"

"Why do you think it's special?"

"Because you win with it!"

"You want it easy, eh? It's not like that, were there a winning move everybody would use it and everybody would be a winner and a loser."

"Mmh…"

"I think it's special if someone does not expect it. It is also special…"

"If someone expects it and does not prepare for anything else?"

"Exactly."

"So, what should I do?"

"What you did would've been right against this move, except you should've been softer on your knees and less stiff with your arms. The real thing is that you must learn how to tell what move is incoming."

He resumed, with a series of called strokes, without giving any further explanation. Spontaneously, she grew better at reading them until she managed to parry a 'special' one.

"See? You are getting better. What are you doing?"

"I concentrate on your shoulders. I think they give me hints…"

He narrowed his eyes: "Are you sure? Let's see… right, high!"

He started high on her right side, then he dropped his arm. She noticed it and got ready for a 'special' attack, but suddenly he rotated the wrist and hit her on her leg. She snorted, she did not like it.

"What went wrong, Jean?"

"You cheated."

"Yes, but what went wrong?"

"I was ready for the attack, I knew you would drop the arm by the shoulders, but you tricked me."

"I just wanted to show you that the shoulders can… cheat."

"What do you mean?"

"You can tell certain movements by the shoulders, but not all of them. It was a good hunch, but you cannot really rely on them."

"What should I look at, then?"

He pointed at his eyes: "The eyes, Jean."

"The eyes don't cheat?"

He knelt and hugged her, raising her up, and started walking toward the house. He thought for a few moments about fight scenes involving the claymores and he knew that it wasn't entirely true, they were not following normal rules of swordplay.

"Well… For now, the answer is no."

"For now?"

"Always curious, are you?" - he hesitated a bit. He should've just said 'no' but couldn't lie to her, and he needed to change the subject somehow: "Would you like to see a real sword?"

"Ooooh, sure, when? When?"

"I need to clean an old sword, perhaps you could give me a hand sometimes the next days?" - he did not need to await the answer, and she was all into the new thrill.

* * *

"Got you…"

Miria had impaled the shadow on her sword, glowing with a golden and pulsing light. The blade had gone through its target effortlessly. She exhaled and lashed upward, the blade cutting through the enemy until it freed up after having split the head in two. The creature collapsed, yet without a sound. She turned to Clare to check how she was.

"Clare, how bad is it?"

"I believe I can pull myself together… I haven't done this for long, but I can do it."

"I am sorry it took so long, I was cut pretty bad and it had been for a while for me too… It was hard to read its movements, too…"

"You did great, you managed to use that technique…"

"You didn't practice these years, did you?"

"And you?"

Miria grinned, then her face took a worried expression again.

"This was a trap… That… thing was strong."

"Yes, a trap by someone who knows us fairly well and who found the perfect excuse to drag me here."

"And flush me out, I laid low, didn't have many contacts with anybody, I liked to remain… quiet."

"Me too, I haven't seen any of the others in years. I always stayed with my… family…"

Sheer fear invaded her heart.

"Miria, I wasn't just dragged here, I was dragged away from my family, they are alone…"

"Is your horse ready?"

Clare released more youki to finish re-attaching her arm, then released further and patted her legs.

"I must be faster."

Miria seemed challenged, she wanted to help Clare but she felt like all of them were at risk and that she had to take care of it.

"I need to gather information... I need to reach our sisters in Sutafu. Something is going on, I need to understand."

Clare put her hands on Miria's shoulders, to reassure her that she understood.

"Let's meet in Rabona. When you get there, Galatea will know how to reach me."

"Godspeed, Clare."

* * *

Clare rushed home sparing no effort. She just took shot rests when she felt like she could no longer continue and the choice was to eat or to simply pass out. She was terribly worried, but at least the strain and the fatigue were preventing her from thinking too much. She reached the house in less than one third of the time she needed on horse, in the late afternoon, but she was exhausted.

Arriving by the pathway, she already knew something was wrong. Silence, everything was silence, but for the nervous neighing of the horses, cantering in circles without pause. She rushed toward the house, but stopped on the porch as she saw that the door had been smashed down. She smelled death coming from the inside, a smell too familiar, although she could not feel any youma stench.

She entered wearily, seeing everywhere signs of struggle. Broken forniture, scattered weapons, glass splinters everywhere off shattered windows. There were bodies everywhere bearing wounds of various sorts. She noticed a crossbow dart stuck in the wall. Then she saw that the door to Jean and Galk's room had been smashed down as well, and a trace of blood was leading in. It had dried out, but probably not since long. Raki's sword was standing on the entrance, unpolished and a bit dented and rusty. He didn't have the time to take care of it.

She was aware of what she'd see had she continued in the room, but she had to be sure. She entered and noticed one more body, a man with a broken jaw, by the window, whose glass had been shattered as well. Then she moved forward and saw three more, previously slightly concealed by the beds. A man with the skull smashed in was in a sitting position on the wall to the left of the entrance, past the window. Another was lying face down, with a thick wooden stick piercing through his right eye.

Raki was on his knees, with the head resting on his upper chest, slightly leaning right. A dart was stuck in his right shoulder, another in his back, just under the right shoulder blade. His right hand was pierced by a dagger, still stuck in it. A short sword was piercing through his chest, from the back, and a short-spear was pinning him to the floor, entering in his left shoulder and exiting from his left flank. She saw him last, as if she was trying to disregard his sight, to postpone the inevitable.

In front of Raki's body she noticed two more small pools of blood, one to the right and one to the left. She wanted to scream, but was feeling absent, as if the grief was too much to bear even to cry. Her mind was processing the details of the scenes. Every detail was giving away a glimpse of the fight, and together they were making her revive those moments in a series of flashes.

* * *

It was a late afternoon, Raki and his son were preparing food for dinner, while Jean was preparing the table. They could hear the horses neighing in the fields, probably more than usual, but did not pay attention.

Galk suddenly stopped, warning his father: "Dad, there's somebody at the door… I feel them... Evil thoughts..."

Raki was moving to go and check, when the main door was smashed down by two thugs ramming it with a tree stud. At the same time, two more shattered the window glass.

"Jean, Galk, in your room, now. Lock it!" - he screamed as he rushed to the two on the door, the closer ones, picking up a chair on his way. They were wielding short swords, whereas the ones behind the window were swinging bolas over their heads and aiming at his neck.

He met the first two, they swung their swords but he dodged and hit one in the head with the chair, breaking it. The leg of the chair he was gripping broke free and he started to use it as a club. One more entered the room, with another following behind.

The first of the two behind the window threw his bolas, Raki noticed him and sidestepped raising his left hand, catching the weapon mid-air and immediately following through hitting the enemy just entered with the balls on the left temple, so hard his left eye burst from orbit. The other shooter threw as well, but missed. Both of them reached for crossbows, as if they first had intended to use incapacitating weapons but were no longer confident about it.

Raki kept dodging the attacks of the ones on the door, then one attack went further off-target and he reacted hitting the armed wrist of the assailant, breaking it. The thug bent in pain holding his broken wrist and Raki kneed him under the jaw, splintering his teeth. One more replaced him, as if there were an endless stream.

A short sword slash just missed him, and he knew he could not dodge the next one so he just covered with the left arm. He had a cut from the wrist to the elbow, but it was light. He pushed the one that hit him away with the right arm, making him stumble on a corpse and falling outside. The other remaining hesitated a second, but Raki heard a 'thwang' coming from his right side, he realized it must have been one of the crossbows and he blindly raised his club. The dart hit his improvised weapon, snatching it from his hand. The other shooter seemed ready to shoot, Raki waited an instant then as he pulled the trigger he tumbled towards the bench by the dinner table, where he recovered his sword. He had shown it to Jean that afternoon and they were planning to work on it after dinner, before bedtime. He instantly unsheathed it.

Passing by the window he slashed through, decapitating one of the shooters, whilst the other managed to duck in time. He still had two assailants coming from the main door and turned to face them. His sword was in bad shape, but he was a way superior fighter and dispatched them in a few moves.

He noticed movements outside the house, there were still others, with short swords and short spears. He could tell they were starting to falter seeing their companions butchered like that, but were not quitting, yet. Suddenly, he heard a crashing sound from the kids' room.

"The room's window!" - he thought, and turned to get there, his attention completely on Jean and Galk.

As he turned, the former surviving shooter and another one that joined him had picked up the crossbows and re-cocked them. They aimed and shot. Raki heard the springing sounds and felt two stabs, one to the right shoulder, draining away his strength and making him drop the sword, the other lower on his back making him lose balance.

He grunted but managed to shift his weight to the left side and kept going. Ignoring the pain he crashed through the door leading with the good left shoulder, he recalled that he had told his kids to lock it. He made it through but the impact was heavy, he had built their house solid, and he felt.

"Get up!" - he screamed and went back on his feet in a heartbeat. He noticed that a thug was threatening the kids on the opposite side of the beds with a dagger. Jean was trying to keep her wooden stick raised to protect herself and Galk, who was in a fetal position, trembling. He rushed at him: the assailant turned and thrusted with the dagger. Raki raised his right arm and the blade pierced through the palm of his hand. Painfully, he twisted the hand to take the thug's arm off, then drew closer and headbutted him in the face, then again, and again. The third time he felt the nose dive into his brain. As the assailant was dropping on the floor, he prepared to turn but felt another stab on the back, this time heavier. He felt cold metal carving through his body and saw the tip of a short sword blade slowly emerging from his chest. He saw terror in his kids' eyes, which gave him the strength to whirl with his good hand wide, leading with the back. He turned so fast the thug lost grip on the sword. He then felt he hit something solid, and another thug fell holding his dislodged jaw and hitting the head on the floor violently.

Raki had whirled with too much impetus and could not stop as he wanted, ending again toward the kids. He also lost balance, and fell on a knee. He screamed and pushed to get back on his feet but he felt another stab, through his left shoulder. The force of the blow dragged him further down on his knees, and he felt steel through his chest and his back again. The tip of the short spear then got stuck into the wooden floor.

He could not move and felt his strength abandoning him. He was starting to see everything clouded, and raised the right hand to caress his kids, but could not, it was too heavy and it was too painful. His breathing was getting weaker and hissing.

He knew he was dying, and that there was nothing more he could do. He felt another presence behind him, but could not react. Jean did, she leaped forward with her stick, then he saw her getting back without it and a savage scream coming from behind, followed by a dropping sound. Jean was horrified, she had just killed a man, that Raki could tell. She had moved fast and well, but she was not ready to face the consequences.

Galk was shacking on the floor, more strongly now; he was begging: "Stop, Jean... Stop please... I cannot..."

Raki was dizzy, but he heard more steps getting into the room. They were slower, though, as if the fight was over. He could not hear well, but got a few words: "Need... Little bastards... Alive". They had come to take the children, not to kill them. There was still hope.

"Jean… Galk…"

There were so many things he'd want to say. That he loved them, that they were the best kids in the world. He then pictured Clare, from the first time she met her. He wouldn't see her anymore...

He closed his eyes: "You mother will… find you… Be… strong…"

* * *

**Hello everybody, I hope you enjoyed the story so far. The setting is quite dark, but it is my attempt at dark fantasy and at abiding by the canon. Anyway, any feedback will be very much appreciated. The next chapter, "The long farewell", will be updated by the end of February and will be less bulky than this one. Afterwards, updates should come more or less fortnightly. Cheers! G.**


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